Ironies

KEVIN

"Today we commemorate the death of Mister Allan Cortez, founder and CEO of Golden Island. Together with his entire family, Mister Cortez had died when a sudden electric malfunction had their entire house burn down after an esteemed party with their Japanese associates the night before the tragic event had taken place. It was an unfortunate disaster which had a few other people included as well. Mister Takahashi Ryuji who was now running the esteemed construction company wanted to dedicate this day to remember such an endeared friend and colleague. We--"

I stopped halfway in the middle of biting into the piece of pancake jabbed by the fork I was holding, the mini television screen having been turned off all of a sudden.

"Scam," my father muttered, dropping the remote control beside me on the island by our kitchen. He was searching the cupboards for his mug. His police badge glinted at the top of the left breast pocket of his uniform.

"You still believed that it wasn't an accident?" I asked.

A year ago when the death of the entire Cortez family was aired on the television, my father had commented that he had doubts about the cause of their sudden demise. However, he was not in the right position to prove his claim.

The investigation had revealed that an electric malfunction had caused a spark and created a flame which instantly grew until the house was half scorched into nothing.

It happened somewhere in between the wee hours of the morning. A neighbour had reported it, immediately calling the fire department. The firemen had tried to stop the rapidly increasing flame coming from inside the house,

Not a single member of the Cortez Family was spared. No bodies were found. Everything was ash when the firemen had finally doused the huge fire.

It was unfortunate, sad, tragic. I can't imagine how devastated I would be if I was in their position and somehow managed to survive.

Losing someone you loved in a blink of an eye is probably one of the most heart breaking phenomena to ever happen to a person. At least in my opinion.

I can't imagine how I would feel if it happened to me. I would perhaps wish to die every day that I was alive and I just knew that everything won't ever be the same.

"An entire house that big won't simply burn down, son. Besides, if you were to build a house as big as that, won't there be an alarm system for that kind of thing? Everything about it was just fishy," I can't deny that my father was probably right.

I mean, come on, you can't just build a mansion and not have a fire alarm right? He was right to be suspicious. But then, his claim had no proof.

Additionally, even if he was to try and argue that it wasn't an accidental fire, the higher ups would undoubtedly deny him the chance to investigate the case any further.

If I was to theorize what really happened to the Cortez Family, I would put a big bet that it involved a community of syndicate.

Another guess? That syndicate was most likely commonly known as the Mafia.

"Well, there's nothing you can do about it dad. What happened has already happened," finally finding his mug, my father went on to put hot water on it from the thermos sitting at the kitchen counter, pouring in his coffee right after.

Swallowing the last bit of pancake on my plate, I got up from the stool, bringing my plate on the sink.

"Justice is never dead, Kevin. I want you to remember that," I had to stop myself from adding a snide remark saying that if it wasn't dead, why was mother's killer still roaming around freely and was yet to be caught up to this date?

It has been five years. Yet. my mother's death was yet to be given justice.

I badly wanted to spat that in front of my father. However, I knew that if I reminded him of my mother's death, I would most likely hurt his feelings and make him feel like an incompetent officer, unable to find justice to his wife's death.

"I'll try to keep that in mind," I said, instead, flashing a forced grin towards my father who has now taken my place by the island.

"Dinner?" I shook my head, placing back my attention on the sink, turning on the faucet to wash the plate and fork I had used.

"I'll be out with some friends," I said.

"Me too. Don't be out too late,"

Finally done with rinsing the items in my hand, I placed it on the rack intended for drying the utensils before putting them back in their respective places.

I faced my father once again, raising my right hand to give him a salute.

"Sir, yes sir." I said which my father responded with a nod of approval.

--

Colorful lights, the smell of alcohol and the loud music pulsating through me as I sat in the corner of the bar distracted me from thoughts of my mother.

I hate having those talks with my dad. My mother's death had scarred us both. We mourned and busied ourselves in our own separate ways.

My father has been in the police force ever since I was born. My mother was a teacher of a local school in the city that we were in. Our family was like any other typical one. We were happy.

I had no siblings. I wouldn't have even existed in the first place. I was what people would call a miracle baby.

My mother almost died giving birth to me. It was then decided that I was the first and last. My father didn't want to take any chances.

Sadly, no matter how protective he was, my mother still ended up dying too early leaving me and him to a future full of uncertainty.

"Kev!" hearing my best friend's familiar voice, I was instantly jarred from the sad thoughts I was starting to have.

I grinned, waving Astherielle to come over.

Pushing her way towards me, she reciprocated my grin with one of her own. Upon reaching me, she plopped herself on the empty space beside me, giving my shoulder a light punch.

"You were gone for two days," she pouted, blinking her eyes in unison.

"My father would be too suspicious if I told him the same reason why I had to be out late. He might want to see proof of the project I told him we were working on for almost a week,"

Astherielle simply smirked.

"Bring him in here, that is proof," I shook my head.

"That," I said, "will be the last thing I would ever do," she belted out a laugh, mocking me once again.

"How ironic, a son of a police officer being the head of a secret syndicate,"

I grabbed the glass of tequila sitting in front of me, sipping it before giving Astherielle my response.

"Mafia, Elle, you make us sound like bad people by using syndicate,"

"Oh, and the word Mafia doesn't?" I shrugged.

"Maybe,"